


Hunger

by FaultyParagon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Romance, Training Camp, Yearning, kurotsuki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultyParagon/pseuds/FaultyParagon
Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro is just helping him learn how to block, he thinks. That’s all.…it’s so much more, and they both know it.-aka Kuroo Tetsuro grows on Kei more than he’d like to admit. KuroTsuki.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first HQ work, but after binging the manga this summer after it finished, I've recently begun watching the show too, and... well. Here I am, falling down into this rabbit hole.

He doesn’t want to go to the training camp.

Hinata has not stopped giggling about it the entire way. The noise is piercing, cutting through every single song Kei tries to focus upon as the bus trundles along roads which ring empty in the early morn. Coach Ukai snores in the front seat faintly, and Nishinoya has long grown weary of the sound, but Takeda-sensei does not stop driving for anyone, his eyes glittering brighter than any of the streetlights still lighting the way.

Kei does not care about any of this. It’s just a club. It’s just a training camp. Why Coach Nekomata is so insistent on watching the players at Karasuno grow still baffles him, for why would anyone want to build their opponents up so strongly if all that shall do is make their future battles all the more bloody, all the more painful?

He changes the song on his phone. It’s not enough to drown out Hinata’s rambling. For a brief moment, he is envious of Kageyama, for their setter has been sleeping soundly despite sitting right in front of their decoy the entire way.

…he can’t wait for sunrise. At least then he’ll be able to properly look at something to distract himself, too.

xXx

If he has to listen to someone talking about the Skytree one more time, he is going to combust.

“But it’s so big!” Nishinoya cries, gawping at what is clearly just a transmission tower in disbelief. “That’s _got_ to be it, right?”

Kei rolls his eyes as he walks past Tanaka and Nishinoya, the two idiotic upperclassmen content to look up at the red-and-white structure in awe. How he has ended up with such imbeciles will forever fascinate him, even if they are capable on the court.

Nekoma’s team takes notice of Karasuno’s vocal stupidity, chuckling and teasing the players from Karasuno as they leave the bus and make their way towards the school. Kei sighs, keeping his back straight and his stride long, for he does not need to engage; as long as he keeps his eyes up, no one can meet his gaze, anyways. His headache has only grown worse after the constant noise on the way there, and he is in no mood for pleasantries.

His mouth quirks downwards as he notices a figure not moving out of his way. Quietly, he bows to Kuroo Tetsuro, who has barely recovered from his laughter at the proclamations of ‘seeing the Skytree’; however, the captain of Nekoma does not move out of the way, his sharp chin simply lifting proudly, a devilish glint in his eye as he surveys the scene through dark hair, down a long, straight nose.

He’s just as tall as Kei. Now that he is not doubled over in laughter, Kuroo looks Kei in the eyes, not a hint of hesitation showing through a completely relaxed stance. “Welcome to training,” the elder murmurs. “You ready, first-year?”

Kei bows not an inch lower than necessary. “Yes.”

His calculated movement is caught, and Kuroo’s smile widens further- however, a flash of fear stabs through Kei’s heart as he watches Kuroo’s expression go from amused to intrigued, thin eyes narrowing further as he scrutinizes Kei from head to toe. “Good,” Kuroo replies. “You’re going to learn a lot.”

And he walks away, approaching Daichi to trade tense, yet fond greetings as they always do. Although his attention is taken away from Kei, though, Kei cannot help but shudder as he turns to look back at the elder.

Kuroo Tetsuro isn’t normal, he thinks. He cannot be taken lightly.

He follows Tadashi into the school, leaving Kuroo Tetsuro behind. He can still feel those eyes watching him, a sense of curiosity shining through heavy lids that Kei cannot understand. Kei is not the interesting one in Karasuno, after all- his job is merely to guard the court when the sun cannot shine. A mere guard is not meant to be looked at like that.

And yet, that feeling of being watched does not fade, and Kei cannot breathe easy knowing that he has caught the interest of someone who, unlike most of the people here, is actually a force to be reckoned with off the courts, too.

xXx

“You should eat more.”

Kei nods, providing a noncommittal answer. It’s enough for Bokuto, the energetic ditz already focused upon something else.

Kuroo’s hand moves to rest upon Kei’s shoulder in a silent act of support. Kei blinks. Then, a pile of vegetables land upon Kei’s plate.

He stares at it blankly, then back up to Kuroo’s wide, leering grin. “You should eat more,” Kuroo repeats in a sing-song, an unsettling edge to his voice.

“Thank you,” Kei responds without feeling. He does not hesitate to separate what he likes and what he does not. Tadashi will eat what he doesn’t want, anyways- that has always been their way, and Kei is pickier than he’d like to admit when it comes to vegetables.

…he’s not hungry, anyways.

Kuroo squeezes his shoulder, and Kei realizes just how large Kuroo’s hand is when the elder leaves, Nekoma’s captain walking away to rejoin his own teammates. _No wonder he’s good at blocking,_ Kei thinks absently. Still, Kuroo Tetsuro’s touch is surprisingly gentle- surprisingly comfortable.

He tosses most of his excess food that evening. He didn’t ask for it, anyways.

xXx

“You’re really weak.”

He hates the fact that those words have driven him to practice like this, but what he hates more is the fact that these seniors are not wrong. Kei _is_ weak. He is too spindly and frail, all long limbs and no muscle. No matter what Akiteru preaches- and although it is a silly thought- Kei cannot help but wonder whether his older brother is the one who has managed to inherit any genes that might help with building mass, for no matter how much Kei trains, he has never been sturdy or menacing the way that so many of these others are.

Not like how Kuroo is, all built frame and imposing strength and near-psychotic smile on the court.

He spikes. Kuroo blocks him. Kei is unsurprised that his attack is thwarted, though, for the intensity of that presence staring down at him, looking into his very _soul,_ is unmatched by anyone else he has ever met. They may be the same height, but the captain knows exactly how to look down upon him as if he were even smaller than Hinata.

He does not hate playing with Kuroo, though. He finds that there’s something comfortable about it, despite the fact that their skill levels are so clearly different. The elder does not hesitate to give him advice, his explanations always clear and understandable, put into words which Kei can process and implement almost effortlessly.

 _Almost_ effortlessly. Bokuto can still spike past him almost ninety-five percent of the time. He tries to play it off, but it only serves to aggravate Kei further. However, by the end of the second night, he has blocked more spikes than he could have ever expected. The movements feel fluid, and although his fingers sting, he does not hate this feeling.

He does not hate the thinly-veiled look of pride on Kuroo’s face when he manages to thwart one of Bokuto’s spikes on his own, either. Kuroo looks genuinely proud. It’s… it’s a little reassuring, to be told that he does, in fact, have a chance.

A chance in what, Kei doesn’t really know.

xXx

Everyone always cheers on Hinata and Kageyama. It’s natural.

He’s not bitter, he thinks.

_I’ll never be like them anyways._

He goes to bed. Sleep is fitful. It always is after late-night practices- after witnessing the monstrosities performed by his team over and over again. He has never belonged in their flock less than when he is on the court with them, for he is just a teenager, and they are _hungry_.

xXx

He goes back to the third gymnasium every single night, but there is no longer a hushed silence which lingers in the air whenever he steps through the mosquito net hung over the door. There is no longer any doubt which remains, all pretenses of needing to ask questions or having other motives having long disappeared under the quiet, mutual understanding that he is weak, and he will not survive unless he grows stronger.

Kuroo no longer teases him for joining. Instead, Kei is witness firsthand to the shift within Kuroo Tetsuro as his eyes flash, teeth bared, the hair hanging into his eyes nowhere near enough to hide the fire smoldering within his gaze as he explains exactly how Kei can improve with pinpoint accuracy.

Only two years separate him, Kei thinks as he watches Kuroo block yet another spike effortlessly from Bokuto. The elder teases Fukurodani’s ace without restraint, but the exact words which spill from his bitten, chapped lips disappear in Kei’s mind, for all he can focus upon is the way that broad shoulders seem to shake with each peal of laughter, how a prominent Adam’s apple bobs in a thick, muscled neck- how Kuroo Tetsuro is somehow a man, and how Kei is so far removed from that, just a child compared to the powerhouse blocker.

And yet, despite having every opportunity to, after beginning their evening practices in earnest, Kuroo never looks down upon him. His expression is always relaxed, words always succinct and true, as he effortlessly guides Kei’s blocking practice.

Together, they are formidable. The space beside Kuroo feels right, he thinks. Blocking beside him feels right.

xXx

“You are not the shrimp.”

“Thank goodness.”

Kuroo’s grin widens. “I’m glad for it, too.”

Kei freezes. No one ever wants Kei on the court over Hinata. “Why?”

The casual nature of the over-the-shoulder glance Kuroo tosses his way as he walks towards the door is more than enough to freeze Kei’s feet to the floor, the smooth, freshly-cleaned laminate suddenly quicksand grabbing onto his ankles without restraint.

Kuroo picks up on that shock. He always does. “Because for me, you’re a lot more fun.”

Tadashi asks him when he finally slips into his neighbouring futon what had taken him so long that evening. Kei tells him he took a nap outside. It’s easier to blame his flushed cheeks on the chill of the night air than to admit that he cannot stop replaying those few words in his mind- that Kuroo’s voice will haunt him for a long, long time to come.

…maybe he’s worth something, even if he isn’t Hinata, after all.

xXx

“You really should eat more vegetables, you know.” Kuroo watches him carefully, his head leaning into his hand, elbow propped up onto the table.

Kei does not respond, simply focusing on his food. Why Kuroo insists on staying there even after Bokuto and Akaashi have already left, he does not know. The cafeteria shall close soon. “I can finish eating myself, you know,” he mutters after swallowing another bite of rice.

Kuroo shakes his head, that messy hair of his falling into his eyes, darkening his gaze further. His tone is light as he insists, “No way, no way, I can’t let my cute little junior eat alone after hours. I wouldn’t be a very nice person if I did that, hm?”

“Since when were you a very nice person?” Kei deadpans in response, taking a sip of tea.

Kuroo’s laughter is always refreshing, Kei thinks; it is unfiltered and brash, cocky and knowing, yet unmistakeably aware at the same time. It’s ugly, in all honesty.

Kei doesn’t mind the sound, though.

He clenches his jaw as he recognizes that thought. It has been creeping up on him more often as of late. He refuses to unpack what that might mean, for his heart should not skip a beat and his breath should not catch in his throat and his cheeks should not heat up every single time Kuroo Tetsuro looks up at him slyly, especially when he never truly understands what those looks mean. They are always simultaneously teasing and coy, mocking and waiting to find a weak point in Kei’s normally-calm expression; and yet, there is always a hint of respect in those eyes, a genuine kindness and care that resonates far deeper with Kei than what feels comfortable, normal.

Kei is good at reading people. He always has been. Kuroo’s eyes are always gentler with him that even his own teammates- even Kozume, sometimes. It is too bothersome to even begin to understand what it all means.

Just as always, before he can finish his dinner, Kuroo stands up and jogs over to the counter, only to return with more steamed vegetables. “It’s good for you,” he insists, dropping them all unceremoniously onto Kei’s plate. “Eat more, otherwise one of these days someone’s spike really is going to break those skinny arms of yours.”

Kei opens his mouth to protest, but he finds that the words die in his throat. Everything Kuroo has brought, Kei actually enjoys eating, but he has never mentioned his tastes to _anyone,_ so how-

Alarm bells ring through his mind before he can think to hide it from his expression. _He’s been watching me, too._

The joy which bursts through his heart makes him feel giddy. Sick. Both. Neither. He cannot tell the difference.

He does not finish his veggies. Kuroo clicks his tongue, but the smile on his face promises, _“One day,”_ without ever needing to utter a word, and that silent confidence is more unsettling than any opponent Kei has ever faced on the court.

xXx

He envies a lot about Hinata, whether he would ever admit it or not. In moments like this, it is the shorter boy’s unguarded expression, his pure, unrestrained joy that echoes through the gymnasium, which visibly lightens the fatigue of the other players. “We’re going to play with Nekoma again?!”

Takeda-sensei nods, his smile growing in that sweet, earnest way that used to bother Kei so much. “Coach Nekomata invited us again, so it’s our opportunity to try and hone our new skills!”

“Thank you for the opportunity!” Daichi calls, bowing in appreciation and respect towards their teacher.

Kei mimics the action in time with the others, bowing his head and murmuring words of gratitude. His voice has always been weaker than the others in these moments, and yet, for the first time since he has joined Karasuno’s volleyball team… he wonders whether this is what it feels to actually be excited for a training camp. Practicing during their games will be useful for sure, but there is something else waiting for him in Nekoma’s team.

He shoves those thoughts out of his mind. There are no guarantees that evening practices will continue as they once had, for he is still just an opponent- just a snotty first-year who has no right asking his seniors to help him improve his skills in their off-hours.

His heart still races as they finalize their plans to head to Tokyo that weekend, though.

xXx

“Kei, I’m surprised.”

He looks up, chopsticks falling away from his lips slowly as his mother adds with a rueful smile, “You’re actually eating all your dinner. Usually you leave some, or ignore your vegetables.”

“His palate’s growing up,” Akiteru teases, stealing a piece of karaage off of Kei’s plate wickedly. “Give him some more; he’s got to grow way more.”

She laughs, her voice carefree as it rings through their cozy kitchen. “Of course! Although soon you won’t even be able to fit through the doors, Kei.”

He rolls his eyes, picking up the final piece of cauliflower on his plate. He cannot deny what they’re saying; he’s been practicing harder these days. He can feel the hunger even in his bones, and no amount of food can satiate it.

Maybe that’s why Hinata and Nishinoya eat as much as they do and still don’t grow taller. All that food they shovel down their throats goes towards feeding their desire to improve.

…he’s been feeling so much hungrier as of late. _Will I be a monster one day, too?_

He doubts it. Those two are on a different plane than he is.

Still, he eats the second serving his mother gives him. And when he is done, he places his chopsticks down across the lip of his rice bowl and sighs, lifting his head-

And feels heat overtake his face as satisfaction blooms within his stomach for just a moment. It does not come from the fact that he is full, but from the fact that for a heartbeat, he almost expects dark, half-lidded eyes to be watching him. He almost expects that wicked smile to soften, for Kei has cleaned his plate, vegetables and all.

The heat only worsens when he realizes that he is almost disappointed to see that it is just Akiteru and _not_ the captain whose influence has been seeping into his bones far deeper than his hunger for improvement ever could.

xXx

He does not know when it first begins, this feeling bubbling up in his chest. For the first hour of the ride, he cannot even place it; Tadashi points out that something is different about him, his eyes wide in confusion as he looked up to Kei whilst boarding the bus, but Kei had simply chosen to not answer.

The question haunts him, though. He usually has the answers, but when Tadashi asks again, all he can do is mumble, “I forgot to pack something. Left a little late to go grab it, that’s all.”

He immediately regrets saying those words, though. He is not the type to forget things, and Tadashi knows it. Thankfully, his best friend will never overstep, and Tadashi simply slides into the seat next to him on the bus and puts on his own headphones, a simple, rueful smile on his lips as he says, “We’re going to get to practice with everyone, huh?”

Kei shrugs indifferently. He does not feel indifferent, though.

While he does not know exactly when the feeling begins that early, dark morning, however, he can pinpoint the exact moment it solidifies, takes shape. It is just a few steps out of the bus, a chorus of relieved sighs and weary yawns and excited cheers slipping through his teammates’ lips all around him, when Kei looks up, pulling his headphones down to sit comfortably around his neck. The familiar school building of Nekoma looms above them, waiting for them to enter.

And standing by the door is an unmistakeable silhouette- a strong, yet relaxed stance, toned calves and frightfully-built thighs, large hands propped up on narrow hips, broad shoulders and a muscled chest pushing through an oversized t-shirt-

And that hair, sticking upwards in every which way, falling into dark, heavy-lidded eyes that hide all emotion if it were not for that lopsided, wide, almost leering grin. There is no animosity in that smile, though; just a simple, comfortable emotion playing off thin lips, dark irises glinting in the early morning light as long fingers form a fist, a thumb jabbing towards the gymnasium.

Kei nods imperceptibly. It is enough. That gymnasium- that court- feet six inches apart from another’s before they breathe, count in time, jump with arms outstretched over the net- the space where he _belongs_ -

It’s waiting for him, and he is ready to fill it once more. He has to prove that all that time spent practicing without the elder has been worth something. Kuroo is such a good blocker, after all. Kei can’t drag him down forever- he _won’t_ drag him down forever. And then, when he finally manages to block one of Kuroo’s spikes in an official match… maybe then he’ll be strong enough to face this desire welling up in him, too.

**_-fin-_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think!


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